


A Confusing Way to Cope

by DustyMagpie



Series: The Tin man and The Ghoul [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Blow Jobs, Brotherhood of Steel (Fallout), Canon-Typical Violence, Emotionally Repressed, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Tension, Slow burn for romance, Smut, Swearing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, jerking off, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 17:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30143043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyMagpie/pseuds/DustyMagpie
Summary: Hancock and Danse hate each other. Really hate each other. So much so that they seem to go out of their way to antagonise and annoy each other. Once the fists start flying will they find a mature way deal with this tension between them?
Relationships: Paladin Danse & John Hancock (Fallout), Paladin Danse/John Hancock (Fallout)
Series: The Tin man and The Ghoul [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2218566
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. What the Brotherhood doesn’t know...

When Danse had signed on to work with Nora, his newest recruit, he had not realised just how much of his time would be spent hanging around and waiting. With the rest of the Brotherhood now here in the Commonwealth he no longer has to worry about being there for his squad. Having the chance to catch his breath after all these months of setbacks and hardships has been nice. 

But why did Nora tell him to stay here of all places?

He is at a repurposed Red Rocket stop just outside of Sanctuary Hills that Nora has been using as her main base of operation. As home bases go, it is not bad. It is near the growing settlement of Sanctuary Hills and has a relatively clean running water supply; it even has good defensive positioning which is always useful even if this is a quiet corner of the map.

But it is not the location that is an issue but the company. 

Her human companions were much like your typical wasteland dwellers. Generally good people, if undisciplined and unfocused. They lack respect for the Brotherhood of Steel, but that is only to be expected from people like Piper Wright a muckraker from Diamond City or MacCready a scrawny merc that has taken to attaching himself to Nora's side lately. The only one of them that Danse has even a shred of respect for is Preston. That is because of his work with the Minutemen and what they are attempting to do for the people of the Commonwealth. He has tried to explain to him the benefits of aligning the Minuteman with the Brotherhood, but it fell on def ears. Some people just cannot be helped. 

As for her non-human companions, the less said about them the better. The dog is alright though, a very bright creature for a wasteland mutt. 

The others avoid him as much as he avoids them. That is apart from one of them. That disgusting creature is currently lounged in a chair, leg draped over one of the arms scowling in his direction. It is apparently a mayor of some backwater town in the ruins of Boston. With all the time it spends sitting around doing nothing or shooting up chems or antagonizing him you would not think it would be capable of getting out of bed in the morning let alone looking after a town full of people. But the fact that he is here instead of his own town speaks volumes.

Danse turns his nose up at Hancock as he takes a deep inhale of Jet. 

“Disgusting”, He thinks to himself. He must have been staring for too long as the thing decides to engage him in conversation.

Stuck here with that “Crew Cut” once again. Why Nora entertains this bigot he’ll never know, especially when she already has such close ties to ghouls such as himself and synths like old Nick. Yeah, he might be a means to an end for her or something but seriously, can’t she keep him away from decent people and with his own kind? Everyone would be happier that way. 

Although, as bigots with a massive stick up their ass go, he is at least easy on the eyes. That has got to be the only reason she keeps him around, and after seeing him out of that noisy power armour of his, he had to agree. Shame about the attitude, but you can’t have everything.

He looks up to see him watching him again. Oh Danse, you are going to give a ghoul ideas if you keep this up! He takes a deep inhale of Jet and watches as Danse makes a face at him.

“See something you like, Crew Cut?”

“Don’t be disgusting, Freak!” 

Riling this man up might be one of the few pleasures in Hancock's life.

“All bark and no bite is what you are soldier boy. Seen it a million times.”

“Listen freak, I don’t even know how many of your kind I’ve mown down,” a sneer now visible on his face as he cracks the knuckles of his power armour.

“Yeah, killing ferals is easy when you’re hiding in your tin suit. You wouldn’t last a minute without it.”

Danse should have walked away before this conversation had even begun, he should walk away now. Everything is telling him to go. If Nora had been here, she would have dived between them long before it had gotten this far telling them both off like little children. 

But Nora is not here right now and all he wants to do is wipe that smirk off that face of his. 

Danse steps back and with a hiss is released from the confines of his power armour. He is not going to let this _thing_ get away with this any longer. 

Nora keeps telling them to get along or avoid each other but she is a knight in the Brotherhood of Steel and the sooner she realises that she shouldn't be associating with things like this the better.

Now we’re talking! Hancock shrugs off his coat as Danse approaches him. It has been a while since he last had a good rumble. He has been looking for a good excuse (or any excuse really) to put this prick in his place. He is going to show him that him and his rippling muscles have never faced anyone like John Hancock before!

The fight is short but fierce with both of them landing good blows to the other. If Hancock still had a nose it would definitely be smeared across his face right now and Danse’s eye was blackened and looking to swell up any time now. 

The one thing that is certain is that Danse had underestimated his opponent. Hancock’s frame may be small and wiry, but his muscles are like steel!

Danse is lying flat on his back in the dirt, Hancock’s hands holding his arms in place on either side of his head. Blood is rushing in his ears and his good eye is wide in fear. He had made a rookie mistake and was going to pay for it. He can only imagine what depraved things this ghoul will do to him if he cannot get free and away.

Hancock shifts his weight on top of Danse’s middle to give him better control and - Well, well, well! Looks like someone enjoyed their little scuffle more than he thought. He grinds his hips down on what is now quite obviously an erection to see what reaction he gets from the other man; he is not disappointed. Danse screws his eyes shut and stifles a moan before snapping his eyes back open in horror. That look gives Hancock pause. He has never forced himself on anyone and he is not about to start now. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t also turned on, his own erection is clearly straining against his pant leg. But he has got to be sure.

He grinds back down on Danse’s lap as he watches his face closely. He sees the other man's breath stutter, and even though Hancock is still holding His arms down, there is no force behind the hold and Dance could have quite easily pushed him off by now especially considering just how distracted Hancock has gotten.

Hancock grinds against him once more before he asks, “You know, I could help you with that, if you want?”

“Why would I want your help, freak?” Danse barks back at him, his hip betraying him as they buck up towards Hancock’s.

“Really? You don’t think a “freak” like me would be any good?”

Danse had heard rumours, but no, whatever he has to offer will be no good! 

“The Brotherhood does not sleep with non-human creatures like you.”

“Who says anything about sleeping?” says Hancock with a wink. He still has him pinned down as their hips grind against each other. “What about hand jobs?”

“What?” The question has completely thrown Danse.

“Hand jobs, you know, wanking? You wank me; I wank you, we wank each other. We both get a release, no one dies, and Nora doesn't get to kill the survivor when she gets back. What do you say?”

Hancock’s jet-black eyes give nothing away; they only reflect back Danse’s own desperate flushed look.

Everything is screaming at him that this is a bad idea, that no good could ever come from this. Danse has always been a model soldier. Even if Hancock wasn’t a ghoul, he would still consider him depraved, the lowest of the low, but... 

He takes a couple of deep, steadying breaths before slowly replying, testing out each word as it leaves his mouth. 

“No, I don’t believe anything is said about doing that.”

Hancock smiles to himself, he doesn’t want to scare him off grinning like an idiot. He does slowly remove his grip from his pinned arms and sits upright shifting his weight to Danse’s thighs.

Danse hasn’t moved from his prone position on his back yet as Hancock sets to work on the codpiece of his jumpsuit. That look of fear is back in his eyes again as they watch Hancock move.

“You know,” Hancock says quietly, “If you want me to stop, you just need to say, and I will.” He looks up at him grinning, “I mean, I doubt you’ll be able to take what I can give.”

There we go! The fear that had been present in Danse’s eye was gone, replaced with the fire from before.

“Is that what you think,” he snarls at him as he pushes his fumbling hands off him and makes quick work releasing himself from the confines of the jumpsuit. “Maybe you should think about sorting yourself out.”

Hancock is momentarily distracted. He did not expect this level of boldness from him or that he would be packing that sort of heat in his pants. It is thick and in Danse's own large hands doesn’t look out of place, Hancock feels an unusual pang of self-consciousness that he quickly dismisses, he has never had any complaints. He shifts his pants off his hips as he exposes himself sliding off Danse lap to between his legs as he sits himself up.

“Well now,” Hancock drawls out, “Should we begin?”

“Keep your mouth shut ghoul,” Danse snaps back.

He had not known what to expect when Hancock had freed himself from the confines of his own pants. In the back of his mind, he had just thought - No! He has not been thinking about what a ghoul’s penis would look like - he is just surprised it hasn’t rotted away like the nose has. It looks, for lack of a better word, normal. The skin of the shaft matches that of his exposed skin and not at all decayed. Danse is betrayed by his own mind when he finds himself wondering what it would taste like in his mouth. That is not a thought a member of the Brotherhood should be having; it is bad enough what he has consented to be a part of with him today. The sooner this is over the better then hopefully this creature will leave him alone and they will never have to interact again.

Hancock, growing impatient, has already started to loosely stroke his cock and Danse quickly follows suit. Hancock’s eyes are shut, this isn’t exactly what he had envisaged when he had suggested this, but it is better than nothing. Jerking off after an adrenaline pumping fight is always good. So, he is shocked when he feels a large, calloused hand wrap around him. Danse's thick cock slides alongside Hancock’s, the leaking precum providing much needed lubrication against the friction. His hand, after spending time smoothing itself across the heads of both of their cocks, briefly explores Hancock’s, feeling the texture shape and curve of it before returning to the shafts and gripping them firmly.

Danse has obviously done this before thinks Hancock as he moans at the friction. Glad they actually taught him something useful in the “Shitstain” of Steel. As Danse’ hand is focused on the shaft, Hancock focuses his on their tips. Danse moans loudly at this new multifaceted sensation. Hancock had not expected him to be that vocal. Nice! In any other circumstances he’d enjoy that, but he is definitely glad they are not in Sanctuary Hills for this. 

This is not about finesse or intimacy but chasing an end and neither of them want to waste any time. Someone could come by Red Rocket at any moment and discover them. So, the sooner they both finish the better.

Hancock redoubles his effort, spare hand in his mouth in an attempt to keep quiet, something Danse hasn’t caught on to as his hips begin to buck. His eyes watching the pumping hands intently, gaze occasionally flicking upwards to Hancock’s face to watch his expressions before quickly returning to where they had been. 

They are both getting close now as they begin to jerk uncontrollably into each other's fists. Danse finishes first, shouting out a string of expletives that once again shock Hancock, who knew this boy had such a dirty mouth on him. Danse’s head falls forward to rest on Hancock’s shoulder, his seed coating both of their hands with a bit annoyingly falling on Hancock’s pants. All Hancock can feel as he chases his own finish is heavy breath on his neck. He comes with a strangled cry adding to the mess already present between them.

Whoo! That had ended up being more intense than Hancock had anticipated. Danse’s head is still resting on his shoulder when he peers down at him, his eyes holding an expression other than anger and annoyance for a change. They look almost happy, especially when they peer up at him. It does not last though. Reality hits back quickly and Danse pushes him off returning his now flaccid member back into the confines of his jumpsuit.

“If you _ever_ mention this to anyone…” He threatens.

“Like anyone would believe me.” He grins widely at him, “Don’t worry soldier boy, your dirty little secret is safe with me.”

Danse is about to rise to Hancock’s goading once again when he is reminded that it was this that had gotten him into this situation to begin with. He instead keeps his mouth shut, re-enters his power armour and walks away without looking back. He rushes away to Concord, it’s only a short way down the road, so When Nora returns should she need him he’ll be close by. He does not stop till he reaches an accessible house that will support the weight of his armour. As soon as he is sure that there are no nasty surprises waiting for him, he sits on the ground, eyes wide as he recounts the memory of what just happened. He had never felt so angry and so turned on at the same time. That cannot be right, there must be something wrong with him. One thing is certain, if Hancock does say anything about this to anyone his life would be ruined. No one at Sanctuary Hills would believe him over Hancock and while the Brotherhood would not listen to a filthy ghoul the damage would still be done, and he would be cast out. So why can he still see his face every time he closes his eyes?


	2. Round Two...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danse and Hancock go for round two

It has been two weeks and nothing. Not a comment from Nora (although she did raise an eyebrow when she first saw his black eye) or from anyone else. It has even been all quiet from Hancock, he must have kept his word and actually stayed quiet.

He had spoken too soon, he knew he had, it was only a matter of time before Hancock got bored. 

They both happened to be in Sanctuary Hills at the same time one quiet afternoon when Hancock caught his eye. They held each other's gaze for what felt like several minutes before Danse managed to turn away. It was then that he heard him loudly comment to another one of Nora’s companions about him and his “waste of space power armour”. It was clearly said loud enough for him to hear and to provoke him. Danse wasn’t planning to rise to the provocation till he glanced in his direction to see him purse his lipless mouth in a mock kiss in his direction before walking off. 

Danse stalks after Hancock, he is not going to let him get away with this disrespect. He finally catches up with him behind a group of houses towards the North of the town. Hancock is lounging against a wall sparking up a cigarette and grinning to himself. Danse is glad he had forfeited wearing his power armour today, it meant he could get close without him hearing. He is practically on top of Hancock before he notices him.

Not even a minute Hancock thinks when Danse comes into view. “Well, well, couldn’t keep away tin man. What’s wrong? You -”

Danse slams his arm across Hancock pinning him against the wall, knocking the cigarette from his hand and the air from his lungs. He does not want to let him get the upper hand again, not like last time.

“Keep your mouth shut, you freak,” he sneers at him.

That fire in Danse’s eyes was definitely something. Maybe it was because it was so primal that if pushed enough, he could probably kill Hancock with his bare hands and that was such a turn on to him. What a time to be developing a new kink! 

Hancock slowly lifts his knee up, let’s see how far he can push it this time.

He knows when his knee has made contact as Danse’s eyes widen in shock. They quickly slam shut as Hancock applies pressure to his crotch with his knee.

“Looking for round two, solder boy?” 

“Don’t be so fucking -”

Hancock applies a bit more pressure, “Uh huh, language!” He teases as Danse tries and fails to stifle a moan.

“You had better be quiet, you don’t want everyone else to hear, do you?” Hancock’s knee is now quite vigorously rubbing against Danse’s growing erection, “Or do you? I bet you’d love -”

“Not another word freak!” He snaps. His left arm still has Hancock pinned to the wall while his free hand goes straight to his pants as he roughly grabs his crotch eliciting a high-pitched whine from Hancock. 

Danse is definitely keeping Hancock guessing, his face screams "I'm going to kill you," then his hands do otherwise. It is a good job he likes it rough.

As soon as Danse removes his arm from Hancock’s chest they are freeing each other from the confines of their pants. Hancock still has trouble with the stupid straps on Danse’s jumpsuit.

Time is not on their side here, the afternoon may be a quiet one but there are still people about and at any moment one could walk around the back of the building and find them with their pants down, dick in hand.

It is easier than last time, no injuries or blood getting in the way, but the need is no less urgent. Their hands are on each other pumping hard. It is like a race: Who can get the other to finish first. 

Since turning into a ghoul, skin sensitivity had dropped and for Hancock, that translated to being able to go all night, along with a healthy supply of chems that is. He has always been quite smug with his ability to please his partners. But he is certain that if he doesn’t finish before or at least quickly after Danse, he’ll be finishing himself off alone.

He doesn't have to wait long to find out as his skilled hands send Danse over the edge. He at least has the presents of mind this time to bite down on his wrist in a poor attempt to keep quiet.

His hand that is still wrapped around Hancock is gripped tight as Hancock tries to chase his own end, thrusting himself into the firm grip that is becoming slicker by the second with Danse’s ejaculate. 

He tries to stay focused on Danse’s face and the pretty lips of his. How he would look on his knees with his cock sliding between his spit slick lips. Fucking his face till his eyes watered. Then cuming down his throat making him swallow every last drop or maybe finishing on his face, cum dripping off his chin.

Hancock had been right, the fog of Danse’s orgasm is clearing, and he is starting to lose interest in entertaining this clandestine liaison any longer. Hancock wraps his hand around Danse’s, holding it on his cock and begins thrusting and pumping hard, determined to be able to reach his own finish.

Danse doesn't want to be here anymore, he has finished and as far as he’s concerned that is all that matters. The longer he stays here the greater the chance of him getting caught. He should just snatch his hand away and go. But the desperate little gasps that Hancock makes causes Danse to hesitate, every noise He makes causes his stomach to twist. 

Danse is not moving at all, just letting Hancock thrust into his hand as he watches wide-eyed till he finally cums over both of their hands with a shudder and a strangled moan, knees buckling.

Danse does not hang around now, he snatches his hand back, tucks in his flaccid member and quickly walks away. He doesn't stop till he is back at the Red Rocket station and the safety of its garage which currently held his power armour. 

This is twice he has let himself be manipulated by that _thing_ and twice it has left his head spinning. He doesn’t know what to think and doesn’t want to think, so retreats into the maintenance of his power armour once again in an attempt to block out the unwanted thoughts.

Hancock on the other hand is amazed, he had honestly thought he was pushing his luck with Danse today. He sparks up a cigarette and is still hungry for more. These little angry wank fests of theirs were all well and good for stopping them killing each other but his imagination is running wild at the possibility of playing with Danse some more. How far can he push him, what can he get away with doing to him. These Brotherhood dogs have got to be good at following orders.


	3. Not Been Caught Yet...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danse and Hancock have found somewhere to go for a bit of privacy as things between them progress

They have given up with the fighting foreplay now, there is no reason to do it anymore. Their unspoken mutual agreement does away with the need for flying fists when the fists in question could be used to relieve tension elsewhere. The fear and terror is long gone from Danse’s eyes but the fire hasn’t left, not yet. That fire still burns hot every time as a reminder; they don’t like each other, this is only to keep the peace. Even Nora had commented on how they are bickering less these days. That was entirely down to the fact that they had developed a silent indicator for when they were both in Sanctuary Hills or the gas station. Danse had found an abandoned cabin not far from red rocket with Nora one day that once cleared of rad roaches afforded them some privacy. With their interactions happening at an ever-increasing frequency, being away from town or camp was essential. 

They still hated each other; nothing had changed in that respect. In fact, Danse would say this had only caused him to hate him more, although if he was pressed, he would not be able to tell you why he persisted in meeting with him. Everything Hancock did only served to wined him up further. He took every chance he could to catch Danse’s eye to smirk and wink at him - Not that Danse had been watching him.

It seems to have become more intimate as well. As soon as Hancock realised that he could get away with putting his hands on Danse’s bare skin you couldn’t get them off him. His hands would roam across his abdomen, along his arms and up his thighs, raking his fingers through the hair found there. 

It is terrifying for Danse just how far he has fallen; he has obviously spent too long away from the Brotherhood. But surely it is best to truly find out how these creatures work? In the back of his mind he knows that he is grasping at straws, that he, a respected Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel, shouldn’t be engaging in any sort of interaction with a ghoul let alone carnal ones. In the early hours of the morning when he can’t sleep, his mind often wonders to what would happen if he was caught. How the Brotherhood would punish him for his transgressions and make him repent for his disgusting actions. He knows that this train of thought is not exactly helping anything. But he at least stops himself from letting his mind wander too much over what Hancock would do to him if he got caught out, and how he would taunt him for being such a pathetic soldier. These often leave him painfully hard, confused and still unable to sleep. 

It is strange, but when they are in the cabin together, Hancock acts nothing like in his fantasies. He often ends up begging for Danse to touch him. Danse had hesitated at first, the feeling of Hancock’s hands on him is one thing but to actually be the one touching him... 

When Danse first runs his large hand across Hancock’s bare chest he finds that the skin is strangely textured and soft like old leather, it doesn't feel as awful as he had thought it would be. Hancock had moaned so loudly at this first contact and begged for more from Danse that it was intoxicating! It had been a while since he was last with someone else that he had forgotten just how good these sorts of touches could feel. So much so that he often got lost in the moment and ended up biting and kissing along Hancock’s jaw and neck as he jerked him off. But he never kissed him on the mouth. That level of intimacy is just too high. 

The feel of Hancock’s skin in his mouth felt just as alien as under his fingers. It tastes dry with a hint of sweat and something that could only be radiation. Sinking his teeth into Hancock’s neck is also a good way to stifle his own moans and cries while also making Hancock whine in response. The harder he bites, the more pathetic the noises coming from Hancock are and that only encourages Danse further.

Hancock cannot believe just how well this has worked in his favour. He has a Brotherhood pretty boy practically at his beck and call. These days, all it takes is a look and Danse’s hands are down his pants while his mouth works at his neck. 

Hopefully, it won’t be too long before he can get Danse on his knees to suck him off. Hell, at this point he wouldn't mind being the one on his knees. 

Hancock had quickly figured out that Danse had a bit of a praise kink. Loudly moaning after a touch, gasping out a “yes, there!” at him only encouraged bolder actions from him. Once Danse had found a good spot, he never seemed to forget about it. He would lathe attention on it till you begged him to stop.

It had also become less about finishing first and getting out of there, but who could make the other finish first. It was still rough and ready, but the touches had become more considerate. Getting the other to moan and keen loudly was the name of the game.

It was probably more down to Danse not caring, but he would bite and suck at Hancock’s neck hard, just how he liked it. Hancock’s skin doesn’t bruise like it used to, unlike Danse’s. He would always have to hold back on biting high up on his neck. His collar and chest though were fair game. Hancock still made sure to cut it close, especially if he knew that Danse would be reporting in the next day. There is no better feeling than knowing soldier boy is barely concealing bite and scratch marks all over his body from a filthy ghoul (Hancock was prepared to admit that in some cases he could aptly be described as downright filthy).

Danse often seemed to get all cuddly post nutting. It was nice but short lived before reality came crashing down around them. It made Hancock want to kiss him. Not like they had been doing but on the mouth and hard enough to take his breath away, to leave them both reeling. It’s probably not the best train of thought to have towards someone like him, they are never going to be playing happy families.

Once, when they were both still in a post coiltal haze, Danse had turned around and asked him a question. 

“What were you like before you changed?”

"Not much different than I am now," he told him, "I've always been skinny and charming but before it was with wavy blonde hair." It was more of a throw away comment about who he was, but he didn’t feel like getting into it.

Could it be after these months fucking about Danse finally saw him as a person and not just a ghoul? He bloody doubts it, but he can only dream. Hell, if it were true there are just another few hundred more members of the Brotherhood to work through and they might end up being tolerable. 


	4. On Your Knees...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danse get's Hancock on his knees but can he bring himself to return the favour?

Danse is bent over the weapons bench at The Red Rocket base. Nora is currently out with Preston and Maccredy attending to a settlement in distress that obviously did not require his talents, so he has the run of the place. Jumpsuit stripped to and tied at the waist, his bare chest enjoying the fresh air for a change. It was Time for a bit of Danse, “me time” aka weapon maintenance! There is nothing more satisfying to him then gun maintenance or perhaps armour maintenance and it can be incredibly sexy to watch someone else do it as well. Especially Nora, but that is not an option (no matter how much he might regret it) he is her direct superior within the Brotherhood, and it would not be right. It is a moot point now anyway, that rat faced Maccready appears to have attached himself to her and her to him. 

Danse is bent over attending to a particularly fussy part of his guns' trigger mechanism when he starts to feel like he is being watched. He dismisses it at first but when after a few minutes the feeling does not go away he finally puts his gun down gently on the bench and turns around. 

He was being watched. Hancock is leaning against the garage door, mouth turned up in a smug grin. He had been watching Danse work away for a while now. At first, he had been distracted by the sight of his ample behind, but he had quickly got sucked into watching what Danse had been doing at the workbench. Danse had been working on an energy weapon of some kind, that was of no interest to Hancock. What had caught his interest was just how much Danse appeared to be enjoying what he was doing. He is deeply engrossed in his task and absolutely in his element. It was unbelievably cute.

"What are you doing here, freak?" He asks.

“Oh, just enjoying the view, crewcut.”

Danse’s face betrays him once again, as a blush crosses his cheeks, he is not used to compliments to do with his appearance, even if they were received from a despicable ghoul like Hancock.

“What do you want?” Danse asks him, Hancock’s Smile is unnerving.

Hancock crosses the gap between them with a swagger in his step.

“I think it’s more about what you want, soldier boy, don’t you think?”

Danse bites his bottom lip. What _does_ he want? His head tells him that he wants to get back to his task, to send this creature away. Sadly, his head does not get a say in matters that involve Hancock anymore.

“Get on your knees,” Danse tells him in a low voice.

Hancock is not really the type to obey orders, especially ones given to him by a stooge of the Brotherhood. But… Well, this seems like it could be fun, especially if Danse is asking him to do what he thinks he is asking him to do. 

Hancock drops to his knees in front of Danse, his arms and hands resting on Danse’s thighs as he stares up at him. His large black eyes reflect Danse's image back at him as he breathes deep and heavy. 

Hancock sits on his knees waiting for further instructions. Danse was the one who had wanted him on his knees, and he has got to let him know what he wants him to do next. 

“Well, what now?” Hancock asks after Danse remains silent. “You going to tell me what you want me to do now I’m down here?”

Danse is panicking, he knows what he wants to say, what he wants him to do but he can’t bring himself to say it. That would be admitting too much to himself and to the world.

“Umm…” is about all Danse can manage.

“How about this,” Hancock tells him as he palms his cock through the pants of his jumpsuit, “I’ll do what I want, and you tell me if I’m on the right track.”

He doesn’t wait for a response and sets to work untying the arms of his jumpsuit that are wrapped around his waist, pulling it further down to expose his hardening cock. With his hands resting on his tights, Hancock’s nuzzles at Danse’ cock and balls breathing deep his scent before licking a stripe along his balls.

“So, is this what you had in mind?” he asks Danse huskily

Danse can only nod mutely in return

“No, I need you to tell me soldier boy, tell me that you want this.” 

“Yes!” Danse gasps out at him, eyes looking at him desperately.

Hancock places a kiss on his shaft, “Yes what?”

“Yes, I want this,” Danse rushes out in a gasp. 

Hancock smiles up at him before licking from the base of Danse’s penis to the tip, stopping to lick his tongue across the engorged head before licking back down to the base.

“You like that don’t you? Hancock asks as he kisses along the crease at the top of Danse’s leg, fist loosely running up and down his shaft. “How long has it been since someone did this to you?”

“A long - gasp - a long time.”

"Hmmm," Hancock murmurs as he slowly takes the tip of Danse's cock in his mouth, relishing the salty taste of his precum as it leaks and the sheer heft of it. He is not the largest he had had, but he comes a close second. 

Danse head has fallen back, eyes shut, and mouth open wide as he gasps at each movement of Hancock’s tongue across his sensitive glands. He only gets louder as Hancock takes him in deeper. He bob's his head a few times before pulling off the spit-soaked member to catch his breath. 

"This is wrong," Danse gasps out, “I’m a member of the Brotherhood of Steel. T- This shouldn’t be happening!”

Hancock rolls his eyes, this again!

“Does it say anything, anywhere in your little rulebook about getting blow jobs from ghouls?”

“What?”

“I bet it doesn’t,” Hancock is casually running his fingers around Danses wet tip, “I bet we could look for hours and hours and find nothing about this, and all we’d be is horny and bored. But I’ll stop if that’s what you want.”

Danse stares down at his jet-black eyes and makes a decision. Whatever he chooses will be the wrong choice. Whatever he chooses he will regret. But what he wants right here and now is for Hancock to finish what he started and suck him off, the Brotherhood be damned!

Danse reaches out a shaky hand to Hancock’s face and runs a rough thumb across his mouth, gently directing him back to his task. This has got to be the last time, he promises himself. This cannot keep happening between them.

Atta boy! Hancock returns to what he was doing. He is determined to make a show of it now, really show him what he could have been missing, make him want, no, need to come back for more. He moans as he takes him in deep for the first time bringing his hand up to caress and gently tug at Danse’s balls. Hancock takes him in deep a couple of more times moaning lewdly each time he reaches his fist that was steading the base of his cock. He makes sure that he keeps his eyes panned up at Danse as much as he can, maintaining eye contact.

A thin strand of saliva trails from Hancock’s mouth as he pulls off Danse’ cock to catch his breath. Even with his mottled skin he is beginning to look flushed, his eyelids are heavy, and his cock is visibly straining against his pants. Hancock’s mouth quickly goes to his balls, drawing one into his mouth and sucking before moving on to the next. Hancock does this while quickly undoing his flag belt and pants and lowering them enough to free his own hard cock. 

“Fuck…” Danse breathlessly whispers as he looks down at Hancock’s dishevelled spit-strewn face. Yes, he thinks, this is how ghouls like Hancock should be, on their knees at the service of a member of the Brotherhood. He looks so good on his knees, cheeks hollowing as he sucks him in.

Danse knocks Hancock’s tricorn hat off as he reaches for the back of his head to guide him back on and down his thick member. Danse cannot hold back once he is inside Hancock’s mouth and he begins to thrust. His thrusts are shallow and gentle at first; it feels heavenly as it hits the back of Hancock’s throat, so tight and warm when he swallows around him. But he cannot help himself and his thrusts quickly get harder as he fucks into Hancock’s inviting mouth. His voice is getting louder by the second, a string of expletives escaping his mouth as he starts to feel a pressure building at the base of his stomach. As he looks down, he can see Hancock’s hand fisted around his own cock, gripping tightly, touching himself but not enough to bring him to his own climax. 

Danse is getting close, he can feel everything start to tighten. 

"Hancock-" is all he manages to say in a strangled gasp before he comes down Hancock’s throat. 

Hancock swallows what he can, but the suddenness of it forces him to push Danse off with most of it ending up smeared across his face and dripping off his chin in all it’s warm sticky glory. 

Danse's body visibly relaxes against the workbench now, his cock slowly softening. Hancock is looking dishevelled at his feet, cock still hard between his legs as he breathes heavily.

Danse cups Hancock’s face and pushes a bead of cum from his cheek into his mouth with his thumb, moaning deep in his chest as Hancock sucks his thumb clean. Hancock looks a state at his feet and Danse can’t help but bite his bottom lip as he looks at him knowing that he made him that way. If he were anyone else, Danse would have had them bent over the workbench eating them out by now or would have fucked them up against the wall. But he can’t bring himself to do it, even if he tries to imagine that Hancock is still human, the voice in the back of his mind just isn't quietening.

The voice is becoming deafening now as the fog lifts from his mind, screaming at Danse to leave, that he is disgusting for even considering this _thing_ as worthy of his time. He shoves himself back into his jumpsuit and quickly exits, his face a mask of worry and confusion leaving Hancock angry, frustrated and above all horny!

“Fuck!” he exclaimed loudly. He knew he might have been pushing his luck expecting a blowjob in return, but he had been starting to expect better of him, he thought he would have at least jerked him off. He wipes the remanences of Danse from his face with a cloth when he spies Danse’s gun left abandoned on the workbench. 

He sets to work finishing himself off, making sure to create as much mess as possible over Danse’s precious gun. He leaves it painted with strings of his own cum with a sneer.

That will teach him to walk out on John Hancock!

**Author's Note:**

> My Danse x Hancock Headcanons from playing Fallout 4 over the years.  
> Their relationships starts off as pretty toxic and unhealthy. It eventually get's less so... but this is Danse and Hancock we're talking about!


End file.
